


Tweethearts

by followyourenergy



Series: Poets [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (as a passenger), Astrophysicist Castiel (Supernatural), Bird Puns, Canary Islands, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fear of Flying, Fluff, Honeymoon, M/M, Mechanical Engineer Dean Winchester, Poetry, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Romantic Fluff, Science, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-11-02 13:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followyourenergy/pseuds/followyourenergy
Summary: Castiel and Dean Winchester-Novak, best friends for years, are finally married. Now, they’re off to enjoy a nerdy yet romantic honeymoon in the Canary Islands—the Tweety Birds, to the new husbands. From flight anxiety (and a creative coping strategy) to outer space to romance galore, join them as they spend their first week of married life together.A timestamp to We Are Not Poets.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GiGis_Willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiGis_Willow/gifts).

> Welcome to my final fic for FicFacers! This is for winning bidder GiGis_Willow, who requested a honeymoon timestamp to my Destiel fic [We Are Not Poets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12232062). I was happy to provide, because GiGis_Willow is wonderful and because these guys are, too! It was delightful to revisit them. Thank you for your donation to Random Acts, GiGis_Willow! I hope you love this!
> 
> You don’t have to read We Are Not Poets to read this story, but if you do, you’ll get to see how this all came to be, and you’ll get the little jokes and references throughout! 🥰 Find it here: [We Are Not Poets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12232062)
> 
> This story takes place in late May and early June of 2018, a few months after the reunion (between chapters 16 and 17 of Poets).

“Dean. Deeeean.”

Dean pretends to sleep.

“Doctor Winchester-Novak.”

He cracks a smile but doesn’t open his eyes.

“Rigel, my love. My husband.”

“There it is.”

Doctor Castiel Winchester-Novak grins as he hovers on his hands and knees above Doctor Dean Winchester-Novak, his husband. The “husband” part is new—just a few days—but the love between them is old, spanning many years. Of course, most of those years the love was thought by each of them to be platonic. Last year they figured out, in spectacular fashion, that wasn’t the case. Cas has never been happier to be wrong. 

Dean, who hates being wrong, was more than happy to be wrong, too. He opens his eyes to the love of his life, who’s...already dressed and sweaty. Joggers. He’ll never understand them. “What’re you doing all awake and productive? You should be cozied up to your husband, being lazy.”

“Nothing would make me happier.” Cas plants a kiss on Dean’s forehead. “But we have things to do today.”

“Mmm. I have something to do right here.” Dean shoots his arms and legs out and pulls Cas on top of him. Cas giggles into his neck. He loves the sound of Cas laughing. He nuzzles his new spouse until their lips meet, then he kisses him like he never will again. 

If they’d hadn’t gotten their heads out of their asses when they did, they might’ve never gotten the chance, Dean thinks. It makes him emotional, as it always does when he thinks about it.

“Love you, Sunshine,” Dean murmurs against Cas’ lips. “Love you so much.”

“Love you. Forever.” Their eyes meet, and their great minds think alike as they join together for another kiss...and another...and another as hands start wandering, touching, teasing…

“Boys! Breakfast is ready!” Mary, Dean’s mother, calls from downstairs.

“Move your newlywed asses, you two! Everyone’s here, and we don’t want the food to get cold waitin’ for ya. Again!” their family friend, Bobby, adds.

“We sent you upstairs to get him up, Cas, not to_ get him up_!” Dean’s brother, Sam, joins in. 

“Oh, it’s so good to have them here,” Dean mutters with all the sarcasm he can muster. 

Cas chuckles. “It _ is _ good. And soon, we’ll be all alone on our honeymoon. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven. After the hellish plane ride.”

“I’ll help you through it. Come on.” Cas tweaks Dean’s nipple before rolling off of him. 

The men trot downstairs to a full house—Mary, Bobby, and Sam and his fiancée Sarah, all here from Kansas, along with Cas’ surrogate parents, Anne and Steven Cho, also here from Kansas, and his father Chuck and stepmother, Gracia, here from Oregon. Cas’ sister Anna, her husband and kids, and the rest of their out-of-town wedding guests enjoyed the longer holiday weekend in California but headed home yesterday. Those around the table arrived early and are leaving late, Cas’ family heading out today and Dean’s family deciding to take this entire week to travel around the area, using the Winchester-Novak home as their base.

“Nice of you to join us.”

Dean flips his brother off.

“Dean.”

“Sorry, mom.” He pulls her into a hug and flips Sam off again behind her back.

Cas piles pancakes onto his plate, topping them with honey and cinnamon sugar, and adds a dish of yogurt with granola and three strips of bacon on the side. He pours coffee for both himself and his husband while Dean grabs his own food—pancakes with maple syrup and a side of fruit. Dean sits and immediately steals a sip of Cas’ coffee (despite having his own) and a strip of bacon. “Thought you were ‘cutting back’ because Crowley’s heart attack disturbed you,” Cas comments to Dean about the bacon, currently pinched between his fingers, half-eaten. 

“I am. I didn’t take any.” He points to his baconless plate.

“Ah, I see.” Cas swipes a piece of cantaloupe from Dean’s dish. They grin at each other knowingly. 

“Gross. I don’t know what’s worse: watching you guys be all in love but neither of you realizing it, or watching you guys be all in love and knowing it with such disgusting clarity.”

“Stop it,” Sarah chides her fiancé. “They’re adorable.”

“Yeah, we’re adorable,” Dean agrees, chewing on his bacon strip. He shows his chewed-up food to Sam, who groans in disgust and aims a piece of honeydew melon at his nose. Mary scolds her sons, and Cas and Sarah look at each other and shake their heads fondly.

“You must be very excited to leave today,” Steven addresses the newlyweds when the antics between the brothers have died down. 

“We are,” Cas smiles. 

“We’re excited to _ be _ there, not excited to _ go _ there,” Dean clarifies, worry creasing his brow. It seemed easy when he bought the trip to the Tweety Birds (the Canary Islands) for Cas—it was for the man he loved, and he’d just take some meds, no problem—but now, when the flight is just hours away from happening instead of a distant concept, his anxiety is ramping up.

“Remember what we talked about, sweetheart,” Anne reminds him. Over video chat, Dean worked with his pseudo mother-in-law, a psychologist, on relaxation techniques, desensitization, and a little self-hypnosis. He nods.

“I’m very excited for you, and very jealous,” Chuck chimes in, changing the focus of the conversation. Dean’s certain it’s not on purpose—he loves his father-in-law, but the man is not that smooth—yet he appreciates the change, anyway. 

“Hey, I told him he could take you.”

“As if he would take me when he could take you. My son is not a foolish man. He knows the benefits of taking you rather than me.”

Cas and the others laugh. Dean blushes furiously. 

“I’ll take you sometime, Dad. I’m sure I’ll want to go back,” Cas grins. “In the meantime, you’ll have to be happy with the broadcast I do from the observatory.” 

When he’s not busy with teaching or researching astrophysics at Stanford, Cas stars in a television and web series about astronomy, and will be doing a little work while they’re on their honeymoon. It’s a chance he couldn’t pass up, though he would have if it upset Dean. Fortunately, Dean was nothing but supportive, as always. He’ll even be doing a little work himself.

“You’re going to the university also, correct? And IAC?” Gracia asks. As a writer for _ Science _ magazine, Gracia is fascinated with all things science-related. She’s also a kind, generous person, using her fluency in Spanish to tutor Cas on some of the more technical terms he may encounter on their trip. Cas enjoys his stepmother tremendously. 

“We are, but that’s not nearly as exciting for the casual viewer. We aren’t filming at the university. We will film at IAC, but a lot of what we film there will end up cut, I’m sure. Too technical for most people’s interests.”

Dean smirks. “Maybe they can get footage of you in a lab coat, though. That would spark people’s interest. I’d watch that.”

“I _ know _ you would.” Cas winks. He knows they’re thinking of the same night a few months ago, when Dean visited him at work in the middle of the night. Dean winks back and runs his hand along Cas’ thigh.

“I don’t wanna know,” Sam mutters.

With an exaggerated cry, Dean shouts, “Why do you hate love, Sam?” 

“_Anyway_,” Cas continues, smirking at his husband with affection, “the main focus will be the Teide Observatory. I’ll get to show Rigel his namesake.” He squeezes the hand still on his thigh. Dean kisses his jaw before leaning over to steal another sip of coffee and a second strip of bacon.

“Eww.”

“Sarah, are you sure you want to marry my brother? He _ hates love_, Sarah. Listen to him.”

“Oh, this morning is rapidly spinning out of control,” Cas chuckles. 

The rest of the morning is filled with more chatter and good-natured ribbing. After breakfast, Mary and Bobby insist that they leave the cleanup to them and go do their last-minute errands. They hit the pharmacy for medications (anti-anxiety, anti-nausea, and sedative for Dean, and extra-strength headache for Cas, just in case his road-trip-induced headaches are triggered by such a long flight), the bank to let them know they’ll be traveling, the post office to hold their mail, and a local spa for massages to relax their bodies before the flight. At home, they eat lunch, then double-check their luggage, travel documents, and itinerary, check the weather for their destination, and fully charge all their devices. While Dean downloads some entertainment for them, Cas excuses himself and makes a little cosmetic change. 

“Whoa,” Dean says when Cas returns. 

“What do you think? It was your request.”

Cas stands before him, shirtless (always a good look) and with a towel around his neck. His hair, kept his natural brunet for the wedding, now features silver tips, giving Cas both an air of cool (which he always has, honestly) and a silver fox look that’s totally hot. He always looks good when he colors the tips of his messy hair, but _ damn _. Dean sits up on his knees on their bed. “I think you need to get over here, Doctor,” he growls. 

“Do we need to have a meeting, Doctor?”

“Oh, yeah, we need to have a meeting,” he nods, tugging Cas to him as soon as he can reach him. 

Bobby knocks just as Cas starts _ doing things _ with his tongue. “Time to go, kiddos.”

“Foiled again,” Dean grouses. He glances at the clock; his arousal quickly devolves into nervousness. “Ooookay, yup, time to go. We’re going. Really doing this. Yup.”

Cas rescues his husband’s lip from between his teeth and kisses him softly. “You’re going to be fine, my love. I promise.”

They say heartfelt goodbyes to their families. It won’t be too long before they see them again, or at least the Kansans—in just a couple of months, they’ll gather in New York for the Winchester-Blake nuptials, and then go back to Kansas with Mary to visit Steven and Anne and to see some of Dean’s old high school crew. The rest they’ll see at either Thanksgiving or Christmas. Steven and Anne shower them with blessings, Bobby tells them to “drop us a line when you get there so we don’t worry,” Chuck offers advice for handling the flight comfortably, Gracia converses with Cas in Spanish, testing him one more time on the technical terms, and Mary tears up as she tells them to be safe and hugs them. 

Sam and Sarah drive them the half-hour from their home to SFO and drop them at the terminal. 

“Have fun, okay?” Sam says in Dean’s ear, hugging him tightly and refraining from jokes. Dean is grateful for it and hugs him back just as firmly. 

“I will. Just gotta get through this bullshit first.”

“You will, man. You’ll have Cas all the way, just like always. Right?”

“Right.” He breathes deeply and smiles. 

“Hey. I know I give you shit, but really, there aren’t two people more made for each other than you guys, okay? You guys are best friends, and now you’re husbands, too. You were so excited when you bought this for him, so happy about how much he was gonna love it and that you were gonna do this together. And remember his reaction?”

Oh, yeah, he remembers. Cas was _ so _ excited that he pulled Dean into a spontaneous, incredible kiss that still gives him shivers when he thinks about it. The memory is tainted slightly by the fact that Dean thought it was part of their whole “fake boyfriend” thing they did for Dean’s class reunion, but now that he knows the emotion behind it was one hundred percent real, he can look back on it with joy. 

“Yeah, clearly you remember,” Sam moans, snapping in his face. His attention veered to Cas, apparently. “So just keep remembering that, okay? Think of how happy he’s gonna be, how happy you’ll both be. He’ll be right there with you. You’re gonna be fine. ”

“Thanks, man. Love you.” Dean pulls his brother in for one more hug, then they trade and he gives Sarah a squeeze. 

“Good luck with your romantic gesture,” she whispers. He’d confided in Sarah about something he’s planning to do for Cas during their honeymoon.

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

“He’ll love it, just because it’s from you. He looks at you like you put every single one of those stars he studies into the sky.”

“Yeah, well…” he trails off, overcome for a moment. He knows it’s true. He just doesn’t understand it sometimes. “Still can’t believe how lucky I am.” 

Sarah grins at that as Cas joins them, pressing his lips against Dean’s temple. “Ready, love?”

“Ready, Sunshine.”

They say their goodbyes and check their bags, then find their gate and settle in as they wait to board.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas helps Dean use his coping skills.

Dean is a mess.

Cas has walked with him, distracted him in the overpriced stores in the terminal, held him nearly in his lap, and taken away his phone so he can’t look up any more “When Planes Crash” videos. 

They’re boarding in less than fifteen minutes, and Cas still isn’t sure Dean’s actually going to get on the plane.

“There are way more motor vehicle deaths than aviation-related deaths,” he assures him for the umpteenth time, trying to access his logical brain and failing miserably.

“I’m aware.”

“And you’ve been in an airplane several times now.”

“Yeah, as the pilot. Not as a passenger. It’s not the same and you know it.” Last summer, when they went to Kansas for Dean’s reunion, Sam and Sarah gave Cas a flying lesson for his birthday. Dean got to try it, too, and they both loved it. When they went home, they started lessons right away. Dean loves the control he has. There’s no control as a passenger in a plane, one that can plummet thousands of feet with no escape… 

“I know it’s not the same, my love. I also know these pilots have lots of experience, and they get people to their destinations safely every day.”

“I know, Cas, but I’m not in _ control…_”

“You have some control—”

“Fuck, Cas, this is...this is not good, I’m not gonna be able to get out—”

“You won’t need to get out. Besides, I’m going to be there. Where else would you want to be?”

Dean huffs a tiny laugh. He’s got him there. “Yeah, I know. It’s not logical, I know it’s not, I just, I can’t help it, I—”

“I know. Want to try one of the medications Dr. Schultz gave you?”

“No. No, I’m trying to do this on my own.”

Cas nods but closes his eyes in frustration. He wanted the meds, asked for them, and now he doesn’t want to use them, thinking he won’t be “alert” enough “in case something happens,” despite Cas assuring him every time that one, the chances of anything happening are extremely small, two, if something happens, the anti-anxiety med won’t make him less alert, and three, even if he wasn’t alert, Cas would never leave him to perish. “Okay.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, until Dean says, “You’re gonna hate me when this is over.”

“I won’t hate you, but I will certainly be relieved.”

Dean snorts, then leans forward to press a kiss to Cas’ lips. God, he loves the snarky asshole. Cas chuckles as he kisses him back, almost as if he knows what he’s thinking. They’ve been a pair for so long now that it wouldn’t surprise Dean if he did. “I love you. I'm sorry.”

“I love you, and you don’t have to be sorry.”

They begin calling passengers to board. Dean whimpers. Cas grips his hand tightly. When their group is called, Dean bites his lip. _ It’s just a plane. You’ve _ ** _flown_ ** _ these things. Well, smaller ones. You’re being ridiculous. Look, that five-year-old is happy as can be. _ He does every thought-checking thing he can remember from his practice with Anne. _ Is what you’re thinking true? Is it likely? How likely? What is your evidence? _ He can’t stand that he, with a brain so rational and scientific most of the time, is panicking like a cat who’s about to be dropped into a bath, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t want to do this. 

“We don’t have to do this, Dean. We can go home and pack Baby, and we can take a road trip for our honeymoon instead. I will buy you all the disgusting beef jerky you want.”

And that, _ that _ is why Castiel Winchester-Novak is the goddamn love of his life—because he’s willing to give up the trip he’s talked about for months, because he wouldn’t give a fuck about pissing off his bosses for not getting the Teide footage, because he’d take a road trip with him even though they give him migraines (fuck what Cas and his doctors say, those headaches are _ migraines _), because he’d buy him jerky, and because he’d do it all without a single complaint.

And _ that _is why he’s doing this, damn it.

“No, we’re going.” He nods at his spouse, then pulls his luggage to the counter, shows his boarding pass and passport, and walks into the tunnel and onto the damn plane. 

Cas follows, pride in his husband and excitement for the trip putting a bounce in his step.

Once they’re seated, Cas takes Dean’s hand. He thumbs at the white gold ring with sapphire inlay on Dean’s finger. It was his at one time, a high school graduation gift from his father, made up of his birthstone, the gold of the mother’s ring his mother wore when she was alive, and his father’s wedding band. It fills him with contentment to see it on Dean’s finger, a reminder of all of their promises to each other. His wedding band used to be Dean’s, a family heirloom. He thumbs that, too, thinking of their wedding at the beautiful Stanford Memorial Church just a few days ago. Dean looked incredibly handsome in his tuxedo, but it’s the love in his eyes that he really remembers. There’d been a moment, irrational yet stubborn, when Cas thought that Dean would realize he was making a terrible mistake, that he was more comfortable remaining friends and would let him down gently at the altar. But when their eyes met down the aisle and Dean burst into tears, never taking his attention away from him, Cas knew that the love Dean felt for him was deep and true and would outlast this universe, just as his love for Dean would. They couldn’t help but grab each other in a hug, so overwhelmed in this gift they had together.

Their reception at the Faculty Club afterward was memorable, too, but in a completely different, decidedly less public way. Their joy and their nerves (it turned out that Dean had been scared of the same possibility as Cas) were discharged in bliss in the dressing room, where they were supposed to be “freshening up” and resting while everyone enjoyed hors d'oeuvres. It was intensely powerful and intensely relaxing.

Cas is hoping for a similar outcome here as he squeezes Dean’s hand in comfort, sensing his nerves are building once again after his burst of determination. He picks up the San Francisco souvenir throw he purchased at one of the shops. Dean looked at him like he’d lost his mind. He doesn’t get cold that often, and he doesn’t do souvenirs. Little does Dean know that he plans to give Dean a whole different sort of memento of this trip.

Dean barely notices when Cas covers them, focused instead on the flight attendants, who have just come around to make sure everyone’s buckled in. That means they’re taking off soon, and now Dean sort of wishes he’d taken Cas up on his offer. He glances at Cas almost accusingly when Cas lets go of his hand, but calms (slightly) when Cas, sweetheart that he is, tucks the blanket under their chins. It’s foolish, but it does make him feel that much more secure, like the two of them are cozied up at home in their own bed. Cas moves the armrest aside and curls into him, resting his head on his shoulder and his left arm around his torso, on top of the throw. Dean searches out his right hand under the blanket, but that hand is...on his waistband. On his boxers. On his..._ fuck._

Dean stares straight ahead at the seat in front of him. He doesn’t dare look at the attendants, at his fellow travelers, and definitely not at his husband. Though they’ve only been together sexually for a few months, Cas knows every little thing to make him lose his mind. He’s doing some of them now, circling his frenulum and gently gliding his thumbnail along his slit. 

The plane begins taxiing as it prepares for takeoff. Dean clutches the armrest on his right and Cas’ hand on top of the blanket with his left, both out of fear of the takeoff and fear of being caught. Cas seems unconcerned, his eyes closed as he throws out an “It’s okay, Dean” every so often. Dean thinks that maybe he’s pretending to prevent Dean from having a panic attack. He’s always told Dean he’s not much of an actor, though, so perhaps he really is trying to comfort him for the takeoff...or for his anxiety around the public jerking off he’s getting. 

“Are you ill, sir?” a younger flight attendant with an accent asks. 

Dean freezes. “Uh…”

“He’s fine, just a nervous flyer. I find that if I stay very close to him, it helps. Thank you for your concern.”

Well, Cas isn’t lying, because his closeness _ does _ help.

“All right. Please let us know if you need anything.”

“Sure,” Dean squeaks as Cas strokes him _ just so_.

The attendant walks away, and Cas bunches up the blanket strategically as he snuggles closer and encourages Dean to do the same. He moves his left arm so that, between it and the blanket, his movements are shielded from other passengers. Another stroke makes Dean whimper in pleasure. 

“That’s right, love,” Cas coos near his jaw. He moves his head up to whisper in Dean’s ear, “Think about how you’re going to come right here, in front of all these people, and they’ll never know. It’ll be our little secret.”

Dean grips the armrest tighter, Cas’ movements and words both injecting pleasure into his veins. Despite his nerves, he can’t deny that this is titillating. It’s like when he went to Cas’ lab and they fucked against the equipment, only the glow of the indicator lights and the hum of the machines keeping them company, knowing someone could come in to do some work at any minute and catch them. The memory brings a smile to his face.

“That’s it. Let go.”

The plane’s wheels turn under them. This is usually when he freaks out the most, the anticipation of leaving the Earth overwhelming, but right now he’s only focused on the feel of Cas’ fingers wrapped around his cock. He feels the pulling sensation of liftoff just as he feels the pulling sensation of orgasm.

“Oh God, oh fuck,” he rasps, eyes closed, head pressed against the seat, dizzy with the thrill and a different type of anticipation.

“It’s okay, Dean, you’re okay. Let it all go.” Cas leans into the side of his face. His stubble scrapes, his breath is hot. Dean feels a quick swipe of Cas’ tongue against his ear. He growls, “Let it _ all go._”

Dean pants through his nose as his orgasm overtakes him, the adrenaline heightening his response. All the while, Cas talks him through it, “It’s okay, you’re doing so well, almost done” rumbling through his clavicle. He says it loudly, probably as much for the benefit of the others around them as for Dean. When he’s no longer pulsing with pleasure, he squeezes Cas’ hand.

“You did it. We’re in the air,” Cas tells him, carding his fingers through his hair. “You did so well. Why don’t you tuck your arms under for a little bit?” He taps Dean’s cock while he says it, until Dean understands that he wants him to get himself put back together. Cas moves the blanket so that Dean can slip his arms inside, pinching it in just the right spot to encase the come that it caught so Dean won’t get dirty. He puts himself back into his boxers and sweatpants, then takes his left arm out and wraps it around his husband. He kisses his head. 

“I love you,” Dean sighs.

Cas smiles. 


	3. Chapter 3

They arrive at Tenerife Sur Airport in the middle of the afternoon, Tenerife time. Cas is energized by the promise of what’s to come. Dean, the poor man, is exhausted, though he’s been in fairly good spirits. They’ve bickered, as they usually do during long trips, but they both expected it and have (mostly) laughed about it. 

“I don’t ever need to get on a plane again,” his husband groans.

“You have to do it in a week, sweetheart.”

“Uhhhnngghh.”

Cas laughs. “Come on, let’s get our stuff, then we can get some food.”

That perks Dean up.

They find their luggage at baggage claim, then rent a vehicle. Cas speaks to the desk clerk in Spanish, respectably fluent thanks to his years of knowing Gracia. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Dean watching him, an interested heat in his eyes. Dean loves it when he speaks other languages, or even just speaks with an accent for fun. Cas turns and winks, making him blush at being caught.

“Okay, so where are we going?” Cas asks as they approach their rental. 

“La Laguna. I’ll drive.”

“Dean, you’re barely staying upright. I’ll drive.”

“I’m fine. Hand ‘em over.”

“Nope.”

“Cas.”

“Dean.”

“Cas.”

“Dean.”

“_Cas_.”

An arched brow makes his stubborn spouse stand down, and five minutes later, he’s fast asleep. “You’re fine, huh?” Cas mutters, mussing Dean’s hair affectionately.

It’s a forty minute drive to La Laguna, a pretty town with colorful buildings and its own university, which they’ll be visiting during their stay. Cas pulls into the carpark for La Asomada del Gato, then turns to wake Dean, who’s currently drooling on himself. It’s utterly endearing. _ I am completely lost on this man if I think drool is endearing. _ He smiles fondly and kisses his cheek. “Rigel, sweetheart. We’re here.”

A gust of stale breath and a muttered “Uh?” answer him. Cas wrinkles his nose, then shakes his head and kisses him again. Dean’s galaxy greens open and meet his. “Here?”

“Yes.”

“’Kay.” Dean stretches lazily, his t-shirt stretching over his chest and making him most desirable. Though, given Cas’ attraction to the man when he was drooling, it wouldn’t be all that tough for him to consider him desirable. 

They make their way to their hotel, really a charming house surrounded by greenery and chickens next door. They’re greeted by a lovely woman and shown to a room with a double bed, dark wood floors and ceilings, and a large window that lights the room. She bids them felicitaciones on their recent marriage and leaves them be. 

“I was promised food,” Dean grumbles as his stomach does.

“Yes, dear. Come.”

Cas takes him by the hand and they walk to El Jinete sin Cabeza, a tiny restaurant just a few minutes away, where they dine on some of the best food Dean’s ever tasted. “They should open one of these near us,” he enthuses as he scoops up his last bite of dessert after a highly recommended and highly satisfying tuna tartare. 

“I don’t think they’re a chain, my love.”

“Should be. So, what’s next?”

“Sleep, I think. We have things to do tomorrow.”

“Sleep? Pfft,” Dean scoffs, feeling refreshed after a nap and food. “Let’s go out and walk around a bit, Cas. Then we can go back to the room, and I can remind you we’re on our honeymoon.” He wiggles his eyebrows at his husband, who laughs. 

“We’ll see if I make it, but sure, if that’s what you’d like to do.”

“I don’t want to waste a minute now that we’re here.”

“Yes, love.”

“Better.” He winks at Cas as they rise from the table. 

They do walk around, Dean’s appreciation for architecture clear as he snaps a multitude of pictures of Iglesia de la Concepción, Convento San Agustín, and all of the little shops and apartments in the area. Whenever he looks over his shoulder, he sees Cas looking back at him, wearing a small, warm smile. His eyes are glazed a bit, though, and when he stands behind Dean and rubs his face against his shoulder blade like a cat nuzzling into a friendly hand, he knows he’s stretched him too far. The trip has caught up to him and he’s exhausted. Dean should’ve seen it, should’ve assumed he would be considering he’s done nothing but babysit Dean’s ass since they stepped foot into the airport back home. 

Dean turns and lets kitty-cat Cas nuzzle into his chest. “Let’s get you back to the room, babe.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a worse liar than me. Come on. We’ll be here for several days.”

Cas doesn’t bother extending his token fight. He lets Dean wrap an arm around him and lead him back to their abode, then into bed. Dean undresses him, touching no more than necessary—yet. “You lie down. I’ll be right back.” Smacking a kiss to his cheek, Dean washes quickly with a washcloth, then comes back in to give Cas a well-earned massage with his hands and his mouth...only to find him asleep, arms and legs splayed across the mattress. He digs out the massage oil from his suitcase and massages him anyway, kneading his fingers into travel-worn muscles, in hopes that when he wakes up he’ll feel even more relaxed than he expects. It’s the least he can do, he figures, for the man who’s given him so much. 

When he’s finished, Dean lies down next to Cas, curling into his side and wrapping an arm around him. “Love you,” he whispers before he joins his husband in slumber.

In the morning, Dean gets to the “mouth” portion of the massage.

“Mmmmmm,” Cas hums. He’s barely awake, Dean can tell, but he also knows that blowjobs are Cas’ favorite morning treat. More than his homemade cinnamon rolls, even.

Dean hums in response, the vibration of his throat making Cas moan louder. 

Dean pinches and rolls his husband’s balls in his hand as he loosely strokes himself, never breaking his rhythm along Cas’ shaft. Cas grips the sheets until his knuckles whiten. He howls, and Dean cheers to himself. He absolutely loves making his calm and collected husband lose control, especially like this. When they were just friends, Dean would goad him into action—pulling pranks on him, poking him in the chest (he hates that), surprise attacks with pillows or wet fingers in the ear. It all worked, to some degree—Cas would scowl, yell, laugh until he couldn’t breathe, wrestle Dean to the floor. But this sort of loss of control is something else altogether. No one else can do this for Cas, and no one else will ever see him this way, vulnerable and lost in pleasure, helpless, speechless, struck stupid by hormones and the power of the bond between them. He’s not sure which he likes better—when Cas is so wild with desire that he takes what he wants from Dean, thrusting hard down his throat or fucking him into next week, or when he becomes so overwhelmed that he gives up and gives over, letting Dean take control of deciding when and how he comes. Trading power and control is so easy between them, because they trust each other implicitly. He’s so grateful he has this incredible man’s love. 

“Dean, oh, oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh…oh fuck...”

“Mmmmmm.”

“Dean, oh, Dean…” He grips the headboard with both hands and arches his back, but doesn’t move otherwise. “Dean, please…”

_ Letting me take control, then. Got it. _ “Yeah, babe, let me take care of you.”

“Please…”

“I got you. Trust me, sweetheart.”

Cas whines but drops his back to the mattress, curling his toes into the sheets. Dean smiles at his submission and doesn’t draw things out. The poor man is exhausted and hasn’t gotten to come in three days, and they have a long day ahead. Plus it’s their honeymoon, damn it. Dean cups his asscheeks in his hands and digs his fingers in, then deep-throats him as far as he can. It takes no time for Cas to pulse down his throat, shouting incoherently. When he’s finished, Dean takes himself in hand and jerks himself off onto Cas’ chest, Cas watching him with affectionate, hazy eyes.

“Good morning, Rigel,” Cas murmurs when Dean cleans them up, then drops to the mattress and gathers him into his arms. 

“Morning, Sunshine. Ready for school?”

“No. I think I have a tickle in my throat.” He coughs weakly. “I think I should stay home in bed all day.”

“Then you shouldn’t have scheduled this visit,” he teases him. “Besides, I think I’m the one who should be complaining about my throat.”

“You can stay in bed, too. In fact, that would be even better.”

Dean pouts. “Damn you, making me wanna play hooky when we both know we can’t.”

“Sorry.” He kisses Dean’s chin. “I’ll school you later, how’s that?”

“Ooh, Professor,” he purrs. “Can I be your naughty student? Will you spank me with a ruler?”

“Student? No. That’s...no.”

“Ugh. You’re terrible at roleplay, Cas.”

“Not _ students_, Dean, ugh, that’s too...no. I can’t...”

“Fine, fine,” Dean mumbles, rolling away so they can get ready.

“But,” Cas continues, pulling Dean back by the hip. He climbs on top of him. “We can both be professors. And I can take you to the faculty lounge and spank you with a ruler there. Then I can fuck you. But we’ll have to be quick. Our colleagues could come in at any minute.”

Dean stares at him with wide eyes. “Damn.”

“Equality is sexy, isn’t it?” Cas grins. He pecks Dean on the lips, then slaps his hip gently. “We have to get dressed.”

“Fuck,” Dean sighs, sorry and not sorry that he started this whole thing.

Cas smiles to himself, making sure to shake his ass as he walks toward the bathroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to check out where Dean and Cas spent their time?  
[La Laguna](https://www.lonelyplanet.com/canary-islands/tenerife/la-laguna/)  
[La Asomada del Gato](https://www.laasomadadelgato.es/)   
[El Jinete sin Cabeza](https://es-es.facebook.com/pg/eljinetesincabezatenerife/about/?ref=stream)
> 
> Translations:  
Felicitaciones - congratulations


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot for teacher 👀😂
> 
> *I have done the best I could with the Spanish in this story, but please forgive me if I messed it up. 😊

The main campus of the University of La Laguna is beautiful, a mix of traditional and modern. Cas and Dean stroll around campus, taking photos and talking about their days at Stanford, until it’s time to meet with their hosts. They bump shoulders and hips as they walk, a casual intimacy that they’ve always had, even in high school. Cas can’t resist hip-checking him, making Dean smile and return the favor until they’re roughhousing their way into the building. 

Dr. Cristóbal Alvarez is waiting for them in the department office of the Programa del Astrofísica. He’s a genial, bespectacled man, easily a head shorter than both Cas and Dean, with dark hair and olive skin. He greets them, shaking their hands. A woman with curly hair, shorter than Dr. Alvarez and just as genial, introduces herself as Carmen, their interpreter. They make pleasantries as Dr. Alvarez walks them into the hall.

The men are given the tour, and Cas is given lots of hearty handshakes and hugs as they make their way to a large auditorium. Cas is going to give a lecture this morning to a group of graduate students as well as to what looks like the entire faculty of the department. Tonight, he’ll give another talk to the general public. In between, Dean will give his own lecture, which scares the shit out of him. He may have his doctorate, but he’s sure as hell no teacher.

Cas, though—Cas is in his element. Dean is gussied up in nice pants, a dress shirt, and a tie, and Cas is, too, though he’s pretty sure it’s only out of respect for his colleagues and not because he’s trying to look impressive, like Dean is. Cas doesn’t need to dress up to be impressive. Hell, he could be wearing a dinosaur costume and still sound more intelligent than anyone Dean’s ever met. 

Dean takes a seat next to a young woman who’s openly staring at his husband. He thought perhaps she was simply starstruck—he does have a bit of a following, both in the academic and internet worlds—until Cas catches her and nods with a smile. Her face flushes red and she averts her eyes. She glances at Dean and looks even more embarrassed. Dean chuckles to himself. He used to get just as flustered when Cas looked at him. Still does. He pulls out his phone and types into Google Translate.

“Él es muy guapo, ¿verdad?” he grins at the student.

She giggles, but looks flustered. “Lo siento. Él es tu esposo, ¿verdad?”

Dean doesn’t know much Spanish, but he picks out “spouse” and thinks he gets the gist. He types his response into Translate, then says, “Sí. Creo que también es muy guapo. Muy caliente.” 

She giggles again, and he laughs aloud.

Cas stands in front of the lecture hall and glances around as Dr. Alvarez introduces him. He catches Dean laughing with the woman next to him, who’d been staring at him earlier. It’s not the first time he’s caught a student looking at him that way. It’s cute and sweet, but that’s all it is to him and all he’s ever thought. He’d never take advantage of his students, for one, and for two, he’s always had eyes for Dean, anyway. He tosses a smile their way as the audience applauds, then begins speaking about his latest research, Carmen assisting him when he’s not certain of a translation.

At the end of the lecture, several people come to introduce themselves and thank him. He’s never quite understood the fuss over him, specifically, though he can certainly understand their interest in his subject matter. He could talk endlessly about it himself. When most of the crowd has dispersed and it’s only the faculty hanging around, discussing heady topics in the overly technical ways that experts can, Dean approaches with the student. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Cas, but I have someone who wanted to meet you. Cas, this is Marina. Marina, este es Cas.”

Cas gives an impressed nod to Dean’s Spanish. It’s rough, but sexy as hell anyway. He can see why Dean looks at him as he does whenever Cas speaks in another language or puts on an accent. He turns to the aspiring astrophysicist and extends his hand. “Hola. Soy Cas. Gracias por estar aquí.”

She blushes.

Dean grins.

Cas nudges his husband with his foot. “Y gracias por estudiar astrofísica,” he adds to his conversation with Marina.

Marina nods, bites her lip, then takes a large breath. “¿Puedo hacerte una pregunta?”

“Sí, por favor.” Cas calls Carmen to his side, thinking he could get out of his depth with the language if her question is complicated. Soon, the woman’s blush has disappeared and they are engaged in an in-depth discussion of her research on dark matter. He’s confident, listening to her speak, that the future of astrophysics is in good hands.

After their conversation, Cas and Dean are whisked away for lunch with the directors of the Astrophysics and Engineering departments, then to the engineering class that Dean will be visiting. He’s sweating, nerves making him fidget. How the hell is he going to keep their interest? He’s a fun guy, sure, and he knows his stuff, at least enough to get his doctorate and work at Google. But to stand in front of all of those people?

“Think of it as just a bunch of your colleagues at work,” Cas urges him, standing next to him at the sink in the bathroom. “Or talk to them like you’re at home, when we’re talking about work and you tell me all about the incredible things you’re doing. Use that excitement to fuel you.”

“I can’t, fuck, I’m gonna puke here, Cas, I’m gonna—”

Cas steps behind him, arms around his waist. “You’re not. Listen to me. You are brilliant, charming, and utterly adorable, and they’re all going to love you. And I know there will be at least one student who’s going to be fantasizing about stripping all your clothes off and blowing your brilliant mind by blowing your huge cock. So. Think about that.”

Dean chuckles despite his nerves. “Great. Now I’m sweating because of that.”

Cas laughs into his neck before planting a kiss there. “You’re going to be a star, Rigel.”

The nickname makes him melt. He turns and sinks into his husband’s arms. “Thanks, Sunshine.”

“You’re welcome.” Cas gives him one final squeeze, then backs away and unbuttons his shirt.

“Babe, as great an idea as that is—”

“It is. But that’s not what’s happening here.” He unbuttons Dean’s shirt, too, then shrugs off his own. “We’re trading. Your shirt has sweat stains.”

“Shit.”

Cas peers at his ass. “No, you’re all set there.”

“Shut up,” Dean laughs, shoving him. Snarky love of his life. 

Fully dressed once again, they enter the hall where Dean will be speaking to the graduate students and faculty of the Programa de Ingeniería Industrial, Informática y Ambiental. Carmen steps to his side as Cas leaves to sit, a final leer and wink pointed his way. He smiles and shakes his head. No way he could do this without him, but with him, Dean knows he can do just about anything. 

Doctor Julio Pérez, the director of the program and a sharp man with intense brown eyes, calls the class to attention. While he’s introducing him with all of his accolades (Stanford doctorate, mechanical engineer at Google, innovation awards, blah blah blah), Dean pulls up the notes he has for his talk on his phone to review one more time. Two text messages pop up:

_ From Cas 2:00pm: I love you. You’re going to do great. And if you don’t, I’ll cause a scene, then we’ll run out the emergency exit, and they’ll never see those crazy Americans ever again. And I’ll still blow your huge cock, because you’re awesome. _

_ From Cas 2:01pm: Roses are red, Violets are blue, Pretend that I’m naked, It’ll help get you through. Wow. ;) _

A huge grin alights on his face. How can he be nervous now? His biggest supporter is here, cheering him on and sending him poetry that both rhymes and has “wow” in it, as is their joke. When the students and faculty applaud, Dean is still grinning. “Hi, I’m Dean. It’s great to be with you today. I wanna talk to you about technology and how engineers are using it to change how people work, how they play, how they live. It’s an amazing time to be an engineer. You can change the world.”

As he talks, he forgets to try to impress them with who he is, because what he does is so damn cool that it speaks for itself. How many people can say they designed and built some of the tech that people use in their homes and businesses every day, stuff that people say they couldn’t live without? Not many. He’s so damn lucky, and he knows it. Soon he’s telling funny stories and going waaaay off script, but he’s still telling them exactly what he meant to, just in his own way. He answers questions with ease, thank God, and he gets a standing ovation when he’s done. When he sees Cas in the audience, he’s smiling from ear to ear and he looks so proud. Cas’ regard for him is overwhelming sometimes, but it’s the best kind of overwhelming, the kind that stops time and makes his heart vibrate with joy.

It also makes him want to fuck his brains out. Which he does, as soon as they get back to their room for a couple hours’ rest before dinner and Cas’ talk. 

“Jesus, Dean, fuck,” Cas pants. He has no idea what got into his husband, but he isn’t complaining. He’s fairly certain his body will still be humming tomorrow with that prostate orgasm Dean pulled out of him. “What was that for?”

Dean, sitting on his knees, watches him with adoration. “To thank you,” he smiles. 

“Please tell me what you’re thanking me for so I can do it every day.”

Laughing, his husband lies on top of him, unconcerned about the mess. “For putting up with my nerves and making me laugh, and for being the best friend I’ve ever had. For giving your time to benefit others. For being so nice to students who have crushes on you. And for not fucking them or fantasizing about it. You were right.” 

Cas jiggles Dean as he laughs. “It’s different when you’re in that position of power, isn’t it?”

“Totally.”

“Although, I admit, sitting there watching you speak, I couldn’t help but indulge in some student-teacher fantasies. I see the appeal from the student perspective. My professor is very, very hot.” He raises his brows and twists his mouth, appraising Dean’s features. 

“Oh, you’d be the troublemaking student who always challenged me in class,” Dean smirks.

“Mmmhmm. And you’d have to call me into your office to..._discipline me_.”

“Jesus,” Dean gasps. He wipes his face. “Damn it, we don’t have time for this.”

“We have our whole lives, sweetheart.”

Dean smiles and plants a kiss onto his mouth, then pulls him off the bed.

A quick shower and dinner later and they’re back on campus, this time at a huge gathering hall called the Paraninfo (which just means auditorium, Cas told him). It’s gorgeous, with balconies and a golden sky on the ceiling with birds and rainbows. It’s not as pretty as Cas, though. He eschewed the suit tonight, opting for sandals, tight jeans with a shimmer of copper, and a navy blue t-shirt with a print of the solar system, with the sun and the planets to scale (it’s crazy how small Earth is in comparison to the Sun). His silver-tipped hair has that just-fucked look (Dean giggles), his stubble shades his face just right, and he’s so goddamn sexy Dean’s not sure how anyone will be able to focus on what he’s talking about. Dean won’t be able to. Of course, the majority of it is in Spanish, so he won’t be able to, anyway, which frees him to ogle his hot-ass husband without guilt. When he turns away every so often, just to give his eyes a rest from the heat, he looks around the room to find the audience as enchanted as he is. People are smiling, rapt, as Cas stretches his arms wide and shouts in excitement, jumping every so often as he trots across the stage back and forth, making eye contact with seemingly every person in the auditorium. This is why he’s so popular, Dean thinks. He loves his subject, and he loves teaching, and who wouldn’t want to learn from someone with such enthusiasm?

At the end, Cas signs autographs and takes photos with people. Dean has to laugh at his occasional bewildered look; he still doesn’t understand why people want his signature or a photo with “a nerdy recluse with his head in space dust,” as he likes to say. As much as he likes people, though, he looks thrilled to be done when it’s over. 

In bed, cuddled together, they each ponder their thoughts—Dean, the final details of his surprise for Cas, and Cas, his excitement to show Dean his namesake tomorrow night. They fall asleep with smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s where Cas and Dean lectured:  
[University of La Laguna](https://www.ull.es/en/)
> 
> And here’s Cas’ solar system t-shirt: [Solar System t-shirt](https://www.designbyhumans.com/shop/t-shirt/men/minimal-solar-system/805432/)
> 
> Translations:  
-Programa del Astrofísica - Astrophysics Program  
\- Él es muy guapo, ¿verdad? - He is very handsome, right?  
-Lo siento. Él es tu esposo, ¿verdad? - I’m sorry. He’s your husband, right?  
-Sí. Creo que también es muy guapo. Muy caliente. - Yes. I think he’s very handsome, too. Very hot.  
-Marina, este es Cas. - Marina, this is Cas.  
-Hola. Soy Cas. Gracias por estar aquí. - Hi. I’m Cas. Thank you for being here.  
-Y gracias por estudiar astrofísica. - And thank you for studying astrophysics.  
-¿Puedo hacerte una pregunta? - May I ask you a question?  
-Sí, por favor. - Yes, please.  
-Programa de Ingeniería Industrial, Informática y Ambiental - Industrial, Computer, and Environmental Engineering Program


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally sees his namesake.

Tonight they’ll visit IAC and the observatory. Tired from last night, they decide to keep the day simple and enjoy a leisurely breakfast at a little restaurant in town, only a short walk away. 

“Hey, babe, I’d like you to meet my friend, Miguel,” Dean says. He’s holding his bagel on its side; it’s broken, and he’s moving it like the bagel is speaking. “‘Buenos días. I am Miguel the Bagel.’” He speaks in a Spanish accent and pronounces _ bagel _ like _ bagelle_, to rhyme with Miguel. 

“Miguel.”

“‘Yes, Miguel Raphael the Bagel.’”

“Uh huh. Tell me about yourself, Miguel Raphael.” He tries to keep a straight face at Dean’s antics, but a smile breaks through anyway. Dean catches it and grins, pleased with himself. 

“‘My father’s name is Miguel, as well, and my mother’s name is Estelle. I drive a Chevy Chevelle, use too much hair gel, make tacos to sell, and I yell when they fell.’”

It’s taking everything in his power not to burst into laughter. “You don’t have any hair, Miguel. You don’t need hair gel.”

“‘Oh, go to hell,’” Dean grumbles in his accent, then laughs until he can’t breathe. Cas cackles, loving the humor this man brings into his life. He takes a quick picture of Dean, head thrown back and eyes tearing up, and sends it to Mary, then makes a mental note to change his contact photo later. 

Most of their day is like this—walking around town and being absolutely silly. They do visit an art museum and a history museum, just for a little culture, but the majority of their time is spent sharing food and drinks (each of them compromising for the taste of the other), taking pictures, and wandering aimlessly, ducking into whatever shops catch their eyes. It’s this sort of thing Cas likes—he’s endlessly thrilled that they’re visiting the “Tweety Birds” together (though they haven’t seen any of those yet) and will get to have some incredible experiences, but what he really loves is the little, everyday things they do—joking around, sharing food, sharing space. It’s what their relationship is built on, and what will keep it strong as the years wear on.

In the evening, golden and warm from their day out and rested from the nap they took upon their return to the hotel, they ready themselves for Teide. Dean watches Cas prepare. He’s trying to look calm and casual, but he knows his man well enough to see the excitement simmering under the surface. He’s so damn pumped to be going to the observatory. Dean is, too, both to see his namesake, Rigel, and to see Cas glow brighter than any of the stars they’ll see in those telescopes tonight.

“Ready, my love?” Cas asks.

“Ready, Sunshine. Let’s go see some flaming balls of gas.”

Cas shoots him a dour look. “I will reserve comment.”

Dean snorts. Cas purses his lips but shakes his head in reluctant amusement.

They make their way first to the Instituto de Astrofísica de Canarias, or IAC, a major research center and the administrative arm of the Teide Observatory. A local film crew meets them there—Aday, Nauzet, and Dácil. Dácil does Cas’ hair and makeup, and Dean’s, too. Dean isn’t surprised. He figured he’d be on camera. At least he’s prepared this time—he’s wearing nice jeans and a shirt that doesn’t smell like fish, unlike last time he was on camera with Cas. He watches Cas meet and chat with the director and the top researchers at the Institute, and feels bad for them. They don’t know what they’re about to get themselves into.

It’s revealed to them a few minutes later as Cas plays “Despacito” (a little inside joke between Cas and some of his Stanford students, he told Dean) on his phone and makes them dance to it. Cas always has his guests on his show dance before they get into things, to “loosen them up” and remind them to never get too comfortable, to take risks in life and in their work. He calls Dean over to him and they dance—nothing dirty, because they’re professionals, damn it—and laugh their asses off. Their enthusiasm is infectious, and the reluctant scientists soon join in. 

When the song ends, Cas is happy to get serious about science (but not _ too _ serious—this is a show for the masses). They take a tour and learn all about the work of the IAC and talk about supernovae—specifically, superluminous supernovae, which Dean had never heard of until Cas told him about them on the plane ride over. The crew films a few things, and Cas nerds out. From there, they move on to the Teide Observatory, and this is where Dean gets excited, too. He’s finally going to see Rigel.

Cas, upon stepping into the Observatory, can’t help but smile wide. He’s dreamed about visiting for years, and now here he is, with the love of his life by his side. He wastes no time telling the audience about falling in love with stars as a child, and falling in love with Dean as an adult. He tells them about the constellation Orion, and the myth of the Hunter. Then he talks about the stars that make up Orion, including the blue-white supergiant, Beta Orionis, more commonly known as its brightest star, Rigel. He conveys the story of his beloved’s nickname to the audience, and then, finally, he gets to do what he’s wanted to do since bestowing the name on Dean. He calls Dean over before facing the cameras again.

“Now, I’m going to show my new husband the beautiful star we call Rigel. If we look through this telescope here, we find Rigel quite easily.” He looks through the telescope with his trained eye and finds Rigel, as he said, quite easily. “Dean, come on over.” 

It’s quiet for a moment as Dean approaches and smiles at Cas, then peers through the scope. 

_ Whoa._ It’s kind of incredible to be looking at something so huge, so bright—and to be compared to it is rather humbling. He feels a little kinship with it. He feels Cas lean in next to him and hum “Blue Suede Shoes” in his ear, which makes him chuckle. It’s one of Rigel’s nicknames, since it makes up one of Orion’s feet. “I love you, Dean,” Cas murmurs, then kisses his temple. “And I will, even long after that star you see is gone. Our love will outlast the stars.”

Dean closes his eyes and covers his mouth with his hand. “Fuckin’ poetry, Cas,” he whispers tightly. 

Cas grins. “Nah. You know I'm no good with that shit,” he whispers back. He kisses him again before resuming whatever conversation he’s having with his audience. Dean can’t hear it through his efforts to keep himself from becoming a teary mess.

They’re invited to stay once filming is over, and of course they accept. Their guests graciously offer them food and drink, an invitation to attend next year’s Starmus Festival in Switzerland, hearty thanks, and the run of the observatory. They stay long after most leave, Cas showing Dean some of the things he’s talked his ear off about over the years. They revel in the time together, enjoying each other’s company, and sleep soundly when they’re done, dreaming of hunters and blue suede shoes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to check out where Dean and Cas spent their time?  
[Instituto de Astrofísica de Canarias and the Teide Observatory](https://www.iac.es/en)
> 
> The song Cas makes the researchers dance to: [Despacito](https://youtu.be/kJQP7kiw5Fk) by Luis Fonsi featuring Daddy Yankee
> 
> And here’s some info about our favorite star: [Rigel](https://www.space.com/22872-rigel.html)
> 
> Also, the Starmus Festival is a real thing, and it sounds kind of cool: [Starmus Festival](https://www.facebook.com/StarmusFestival/)
> 
> Translations:  
Instituto de Astrofísica de Canarias - Institute of Astrophysics of the Canary Islands


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank GiGis_Willow for the awesome surprise Dean has for Cas. 🥰🌋⛺️

On Saturday, they return to Teide, this time for hiking and stargazing (and no work). Unbeknownst to Cas, Dean has something else planned as well. But first, he has to survive the park.

“I’m dying,” Dean wheezes, dropping to the ground.

“I assure you you’re not,” Cas says dryly. “We only hiked for forty minutes.”

Dean scowls at his husband. “First, we’ve been walking all damn day. Just because we got to ride on the cable car toward the end of the day doesn’t mean I’m not still exhausted. Second, don’t patronize me while you stand there all sexy and breathing like a normal person. Why couldn’t the damn car take us right to the crater?”

“We’re practically there.” Cas snaps a photo of himself. “Come on, take a picture with me.”

“What’s this called again?” Dean asks, thumbing toward the strange, rocky sculptures around the rim. 

“La Caldera de las Cañadas. Come here.”

He stands, reluctantly, and manages a smile. Cas thanks him, gazing fondly at their photo, and Dean, despite the lack of oxygen (or maybe because of it), thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He takes his husband’s hand and trudges the rest of the way to the edge of Mount Teide’s crater. Like everything else they’ve seen today, it’s awe-inspiring and gorgeous...almost as much as the man next to him. 

“Havin’ a good time, Sunshine?” Dean asks after a while. 

“The best.” Cas plants a kiss to his cheek. “But we should get back. I like it better when you can breathe.”

“This is why I love you. You care about my respiration.”

Cas snorts and takes his hand. They make their way back down to the place they’re staying for the night: Parador de Cañadas del Teide. It’s a beautiful hotel right in the park, with views of the volcano, and it’s the only place to stay other than the mountain refuge (which certainly isn’t a place for honeymooners). Dean reserved it when he bought the trip so that he’d be sure to get a room. He thought, when planning his surprise, that he’d end up canceling it, but was disappointed to find out his surprise wouldn’t go as planned. Enter Cas’ boss and agent (“it’s utterly ridiculous that I need an _ agent _, Dean”), who both saved the day by intervening on his behalf in the name of keeping the star of the American TV show happy (not that said star knew anything about it). It’s not quite the surprise Dean wanted, but he thinks it’ll be pretty good anyway. He just hopes Cas thinks so, too.

After a late dinner and a shower in their room, he springs his surprise on his husband. “Come with me, sweetheart,” Dean says. Cas, as always, follows without question. Dean crosses his fingers and hopes for the best.

Cas’ eyes widen when he sees the scene before him. “What is this?” he asks, delighted.

“Our accommodations for the night,” Dean explains. 

Several yards from the scrubby grounds of the hotel stands a tall, white, circular silk tent. Surrounding it are lanterns and battery-operated candles. Music is playing from inside. Cas brings a hand to his cheek, hardly believing the sight. “Dean,” he utters softly. 

“Wanted to camp in the park, as close to the crater as we could get, but since it’s a national park they don’t allow it. The grounds of the hotel was the best I could do.”

“It’s beautiful. I love it.”

“Happy eight day anniversary, Cas.”

Cas chuckles. “Leave it to you not to celebrate the traditional one week mark.”

“Well, see, this is more special, ‘cause eight is infinity.” He draws a figure eight in the air, on its side, like the infinity symbol. “And I wanna be with you infinitely.”

The sweet sentiment melts Cas’ heart. “Dean Robert Winchester-Novak, you are a secret romantic. You got me this trip because I dreamed of coming here, you read poetry when you think I’m not looking, and now you celebrate our infinity anniversary. How, in the innumerable possibilities in our known and unknown universes, am I fortunate enough to occupy the same space and time as you?”

Dean shifts on his feet. “Uh, I, uh. Huh. Ditto, man.”

“You’re a poet and a scholar,” Cas teases his flustered husband.

“Fuck you, you snarky ass.”

“Kiss me, love.”

Dean obliges.

Inside the tent, there are more candles, a small radio, an inflatable mattress covered in blankets, and wine and berries. Dean drags one of the blankets outside, and they pass the time staring at the starry sky and feeding each other.

“Can I read you something?” Dean asks. The quiet vastness around them make Dean’s voice sound small.

“Of course.”

He reads a few love poems, which are a bit of a joke between them and only adds to the sweetness of his effort. Then, he pauses. “Um, something else.” He clears his throat and reads:

_ If I knew_  
_In the world_  
_There was you_  
_I would have worn orange_  
_With reflective stripes_  
_I would have shot my flare_  
_I would have placed an ad_  
_I would have yelled your name_  
_If I knew it_  
_So you could find me sooner._  
_And if you couldn’t find me_  
_I would have built a machine_  
_To take me to the time_  
_When you and me_  
_Became we_  
_And I only knew_  
_A world with you._

“Dean,” Cas whispers, on the edge of falling apart. “Dean, did you write that?”

Dean licks his lips and shrugs, then nods. 

Overcome, Cas takes the face of his best friend, his husband, in his hands. For a long moment, he simply gazes at him, until his throat loosens enough to say, “I love you will never be enough to tell you what you mean to me. The beginning of time would not have been soon enough to find you. Infinity will never be enough time to spend with you.”

Tears spring to Dean’s eyes. Neither of them says another word, but they don’t have to. They know each other’s deepest fears and insecurities, hopes and ecstasies. Instead, Dean slowly, reverently meets Cas’ lips, again and again. 

Cas stands, taking Dean’s hand and leading him into the tent. He lies Dean on the covers. The air is cool, and as he relieves his husband of his clothes, Dean shivers. Cas glides his hands and mouth along his skin, touching every millimeter, until Dean’s shivers are of arousal rather than chill. 

“Cas, please,” Dean begs. “I need you, sweetheart.”

“You will always have me, my love,” he answers, then takes him into his mouth. Dean bucks against the sensation, the contrast of a warm mouth and cool air undoubtedly affecting him. Cas finds every way he can to bring Dean to the edge, stopping each time he’s about to topple over, simply so he can bring him that pleasure over and over. He has no desire for Dean’s pleasure to ever end. At the moment when pleasure becomes torture, though, Cas takes him fully in his throat, releasing the dam and swallowing the rush that follows as his husband cries obscenities into the night.

His love is a speechless, dopey mess afterward, and Castiel would have it no other way. 

Dean, indeed feeling dopey, lolls his head toward his husband. “If I knew poetry got you hot and bothered, I woulda been writing that shit years ago,” he pants. 

“Now you know,” he grins. “It’s a lot more enjoyable than it used to be.”

“Because it’s about you?”

“Because it’s about us. Our love.”

“You sap.”

“Did you know there’s a tree that’s native to the Canary Islands whose sap they use to make miel de palma, or palm syrup? It’s the Canary Islands date palm. The syrup is used similarly to maple syrup in the States.”

_ I married the hottest yet biggest nerd_, Dean thinks with affection. “Only you would talk about trees and syrup after sucking my cock.”

“Because there are so many comparisons to make.”

“I love you,” Dean smiles. “Now roll over so I can suck your date palm until I taste your syrup.”

“See? I told you.”

“Nerd.”

Cas laughs, and Dean gets to it. 

Cas sleeps like a rock afterward, but it takes Dean some time to feel sleepy. He gathers the things from outside and places them in the tent, then bundles the two of them under the covers. It’s colder out here than he thought it would be, and the air mattress is small and doesn’t hold two men all that well. He has a feeling they’ll be feeling the ground under them tomorrow. All in all, it’s not quite as romantic as he hoped, though it certainly had its moments. Cas was definitely happy. They had a great time stargazing and making love, and Cas loved his poem. And Dean supposes sleeping on a small mattress in chilly weather isn’t so bad. It gives him a great excuse to snuggle up to his husband. If this is the worst it gets, no problem. 

Hours later, a loud, staticky scratching followed by a howl of wind wakes Dean. “Shit, Cas!” he shouts. 

The tent is flapping in the wind, half-lifted from the ground. The men, upon standing up, destabilize it further; they scramble to keep the structure from flying away completely. Thankfully, everything is in the tent, so their efforts are focused solely on it. 

“The hotel have a fuckin’ bunch of teenagers put this up? Fuck!” 

“The winds can get strong up here, Dean!”

“No shit! It’s fucking cold, too!”

“We’re on a mountain!”

“In June!”

“Dean, just grab the damn tent and—ow, shit!”

“What?”

Cas grunts. “Something smacked me in the head.”

“Oh, fuck, Cas, lemme—”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just grab the tent and sit on it or something!”

Dean does. 

“I’ll be right back!”

“Should’ve just slept in the damn room,” Dean grumbles as Cas leaves. He returns shortly with some bags and two employees from the hotel. “You had to bring people?” he shouts, partly to be heard over the wind and partly because he’s ticked off and embarrassed. 

“Well, we each do less work this way. It’ll go much faster.”

“We had it, Cas!”

“We did _ not _ have it, Dean.”

“We did! You didn’t need to drag people into our mess!”

Cas rolls his eyes and bites his tongue, hard. “Let’s just get this done, okay?” He turns to the hotel staff. “Lo siento. Estamos muy cansados.”

Dean helps with the tent but otherwise ignores him all the way back to their room. Cas sighs. Maybe he went about things wrong, but it wasn’t ill-intentioned. “Dean.”

“What.”

“You didn’t look stupid.”

Dean turns away and folds his arms. “Should’ve checked those damn anchors myself. I’m a mechanical engineer, for fuck’s sake.”

“You were too busy being an amazing husband.”

“Yeah, well, if I was so amazing, that tent woulda stayed up and we would’ve woken up to the sunrise, not to you being smacked in the head.”

“I’m fine, sweetheart—”

“Yeah, well, you getting hurt isn’t fine to me.”

“I wasn’t _ hurt_, Dean. It hurt, yes, but I’m fine now. I’ll probably just get a bruise or something.”

“Because of me.”

“Because of forces beyond our control.” He wraps an arm around Dean’s waist. “I’m glad it happened, actually. We’ll have a great story to tell our kids someday.”

A tiny smile tickles the corners of Dean’s mouth, making Cas feel a little better. “I know what you’re doing.”

“And it’s working.”

“Yeah, damn you.” Dean’s body relaxes. “You want a bunch?”

“I don’t know about a bunch. One or two, though.”

“Mmm. That would be good.” He sighs and turns into Cas’ chest. “I’m sorry. I wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

“It wasn’t perfect. It was ours, and I like that much better.” He takes Dean’s face in his hands. “Now, we can go back to sleep, or we can hike up and watch the sunrise. Which do you want to do?”

Dean looks at his husband and considers the question carefully. He’s tired. He’s cranky. He’s gonna be hungry in a couple of hours. But they’re leaving later today to head to the beaches of Tenerife, and this will be their last chance to see the sunrise. He really wanted to give that to Cas. 

“May I propose a solution?” Cas asks. 

“Please. I like your proposals,” Dean replies cheekily, relieved he won’t have to make the decision alone.

Cas smiles at him indulgently. “What if we go back to sleep in this comfortable bed, spend the whole day relaxing, and stay an extra night? Then we can get up early and see the sunrise tomorrow morning, and make our way to the beach after.”

“You don’t mind? We’re supposed to be on the beach this afternoon.”

“You don’t even like the beach that much.”

Dean shrugs. “I like _ you _ on the beach.”

“And I you. But, Dean, we have plenty of beaches at home, and zero Mount Teide sunrises there. So. One more day?”

Dean knows that, as much as Cas really does want to see the sunrise, he’s doing this for Dean as much as for any other reason. “Yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

“Bed with you sounds good to me.” 

In no time at all, they’re asleep, curled into each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to check out where Dean and Cas spent their time?  
[Teide National Park](http://www.tenerife.es/portalcabtfe/en/discover-tenerife/que-ver/parque-nacional-del-teide)  
[Parador de Cañadas del Teide](http://parador-de-canadas-del-teide.la-orotava.hotel-tenerife.net/en/)
> 
> Original Poem: A World with You by followyourenergy 😊
> 
> Translations:  
Lo siento. Estamos muy cansados. - I’m sorry. We are very tired.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Romance and a rumble.

Dean’s glad they stayed the extra day.

Relaxing was just what they needed. A lot of this honeymoon has been filled with busyness, and Lord knows they get enough of that at home. Sunday, though, was perfect. They woke up from their second sleep around noon, ate a fantastic lunch, made slow, satisfying love, and took an easy hike in the afternoon, followed by massages, dinner, and hard-driving sex with an early bedtime. 

Now, they’re staring at a gorgeous sunrise amidst a sea of clouds, a view just as beautiful as the starry sky they got to see one more time on the way up. They’ve been awake for a while, making the journey up the mountain in the dark via an exclusive tour that Cas set up with a smile and an agreement to take photos for the business’ promotional materials (he still doesn’t understand his appeal, the handsome, oblivious nerd). Not much walking for this one, thank God, because Dean’s not sure he could take much more. His blisters are getting blisters.

“Dean, just look at the view,” Cas urges him breathlessly. 

And Dean does—Cas all bundled up, taking in the sky with childlike awe and vast knowledge of its mysteries, is the most amazing view he can imagine. 

“Look at the shadow of Teide. Incredible.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Stop looking at me, Dean, you’re missing it,” he grumbles.

Dean snickers and pushes his cold nose to Cas’ cheek, kissing his jaw. “Nope.”

Cas turns and meets his lips. His face is chilled, but his kiss and the love behind it are warm. Their mouths meet a few times, undemanding and sweet. They rock, a sort of dance that Cas adds to by humming their first dance song against his lips. 

“You make beautiful pictures,” their guide, Claudia, a sturdy woman with laughter etched in her skin, informs them in her thick accent. She hands Dean his phone, which she apparently snatched from his back pocket. It now contains several photos of the couple, the Teide sunrise a stunning backdrop behind them. 

“Oh, muchas gracias,” Cas gushes, looking over Dean’s shoulder. “Estas fotos son hermosas.”

“Sí, muchas gracias,” Dean adds. He’s definitely blowing one of these up for their house.

“De nada,” she smiles. “It is my pleasure. Estas muy enamorado.”

“We are very much in love, yes,” Cas smiles. Dean smiles, too, happiness making him forget about how cold and sore he is.

On the way back to the hotel, Claudia detours and takes them though the park, pointing out the flowers and telling them stories. It’s a wonderful way to end their time at Teide. Dean thinks that maybe he’d come back. (Maybe.)

Castiel knows for certain that he would. (Will.)

From the park, they make their way south to Playa de las Américas, a popular tourist area. Dean told Cas he booked this with the travel agent because it’s an area with lots to do and he figured they (meaning Dean) would want to do something besides lie on the beach. Looking at Dean, Cas wonders if he still feels the same. The poor man looks a little dazed. “Are you all right, Dean? Love?”

“Yeah, yeah, just...thinkin’ something smaller and quieter might’ve been better.” He takes in their surroundings. There are lots and lots of people. 

Cas had thought quieter wouldve been better, too—he’d heard a lot about Puerto de la Cruz, another spot with lots to do but a more relaxed atmosphere. But he hadn’t planned the trip, and he wasn’t going to criticize. “We don’t have to go to the beach, sweetheart.”

“No, no, I’m just tired. We’re gonna go.”

Food and sunning themselves like lizards seem to do wonders for Dean’s disposition (“I’m finally warm and not moving”). Dean burns (Cas _ told _ him to use more sunblock), but they catch it before it gets too bad. Cas gets his usual tan, only a tinge of red on his shoulders and cheeks. Their Monday afternoon is quiet and peaceful.

The same cannot be said for their Monday night. 

The club is very busy and very crowded, bodies bumping and grinding all around them. They haven’t been to a club since they were undergrads. Clubs were never Cas’ scene; he was always too concerned with his studies and didn’t like the meat market mentality. Dean liked them for a while, but hated going alone, so they usually went together (as with most things they did). 

“That guy touch you?” Dean asks.

“Don’t worry about it,” Cas mutters, more annoyed than anything else at yet another hand grabbing his ass (better than the ones grabbing his crotch, though). He’s fended them off with polite words and subtle movements, not wanting to call attention to himself or piss off anyone in a foreign country. Wouldn’t Stanford love _ that._

“I’ll give ‘em hell, babe.” He flexes his hands.

Cas rolls his eyes. With his advanced belts in two forms of martial arts, he hardly needs Dean to defend him. Dean knows this. It’s how they met, after all. “Thank you, but I’m fine. They just need to understand that my hot ass is only for you,” he winks.

“That’s right, damn it. Assholes.” Dean squints and sneers as his eyes scan the room.

Cas snorts. Neither of them drink much, a couple of mixed drinks or a few beers their usual limit, so an intoxicated Dean is not something Cas has had to handle in years. He’s forgotten how feisty and protective Dean can be when he’s drunk, even more so than when he’s sober. Figuring a dancing Dean is one who will stay out of trouble, he pulls him to the dance floor. They grind to the beat, Cas sucking on Dean’s tongue. 

Dean staying out of trouble lasts until Cas gets them another round of drinks. At the bar, Cas is groped more times than the peaches in the produce bin. He ignores most of it, thinking himself a mere novelty to these drunkards who are looking for either a good time or a reaction, but Dean is furious and opens his mouth.

“Hey! Back off him!” he shouts at a man, one who’d made himself a little too friendly (and whom Cas elbowed out of his space, but Dean didn’t see that). The man probably doesn’t understand Dean, but does seem to understand his clenched teeth and finger-pointing. 

Cas closes his eyes and breathes heavily though his nose, asking the heavens for patience and time to get them out of here unscathed. Dean’s behavior is much more aggressive than he‘s ever seen. “Dean, for crying out loud. Don’t threaten people.”

Dean turns his fury toward Cas. “What, so you’re pissed at _ me _ for defending you instead of _ him _ for touching you?”

“I was doing fine.”

“You weren’t doing anything! You’re letting them all grope you!”

“I’m handling it!”

“Handling it, yeah. You’re _ mine, _not theirs.”

“I am my own person,” Cas reminds him, “and yes, I am also your husband—your_ husband_—so what are you worried about?” 

“I’m worried that you’re not doing jack shit about what they’re doing! They don’t have the right to touch you! They should be keeping their damn hands to themselves!”

“I agree, but I’m trying not to make a scene.”

“Well, they deserve a damn scene! What the hell is wrong with these people?”

Cas sighs. “You picked this club, may I remind you. This is the shit that happens in these sorts of clubs.”

“Oh, you don’t have to remind me, thanks. And it shouldn’t. Men shouldn’t put up with this shit any more than women should. Unless you want it.”

_ Want it? What the hell? _ “You know I don’t.”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Jesus.”

The man he elbowed earlier returns, along with a few of his friends. “¿Te está molestando, guapo?” he asks Cas, nudging his head toward Dean.

“No, no, él es mi esposo. Solo estamos hablando.”

“Hey, private conversation, jackass,” Dean growls.

“¿Tienes una problema?” another guy asks Dean.

“I got a problema with you, all right.”

“Te golpearemos, gilipollas.”

At that, Cas stiffens. Messing with him is one thing, but messing with Dean is another. “Hey! ¡Vete a la mierda! ¡Déjalo en paz!” 

It’s a blur of bodies after that, Cas blocking Dean from harm and Dean doing the same as a ring of people surrounds them to watch. They’re holding their own but it’s four against two, and one of the two is quite drunk while the other is too cautious to use his fighting skills unless absolutely necessary. He doesn’t need to land in jail. So when he gets the chance, Cas grabs the drinks he’d ordered off the bartop and splashes them in their aggressors' faces, then takes Dean’s hand and runs. 

Dean stumbles along with Cas, feeling heavy and uncoordinated. They run all the way back to their hotel, never looking back. “Shit,” Dean coughs, trying to catch his breath. Cas seems to be faring better, but of course he is. All that bullshit running he does.

“Well, that was fun. Let’s not do that again, and let’s hope that no one recorded that.”

Recorded? _ Oh._ _Oh shit. _ In his drunken, sluggish mind, Dean only now realizes this whole thing could mean trouble for his husband. “Sorry. Don’t be mad,” he slurs.

“It’s fine.”

But it’s not fine. Dean can tell by the tone of Cas’ voice. Now Cas is mad at him and he was just trying to defend him, because he wouldn’t do it for himself, except that maybe he didn’t want defending because maybe he liked it and maybe he’s going to leave and _ oh God_—

“Dean, what—” 

“Don’t leave me!” Dean sobs, clinging to his shirt. 

“I’m not leaving you.”

“But you might, you might figure out that I’m not that great and you don’t really...you could have anybody, you never gave yourself a chance to...please, don’t leave me, don’t...”

“Oh, shit…” Dean feels Cas’ arms wrap tightly around him, his hand tucking Dean’s head to his chest. His voice and body are warm and soothing. “Oh, honey, shhh...I’m not going anywhere, I swear. We’re married, my love, remember?”

“Don’t be mad,” he whimpers. “Don’t leave.”

“I am a little mad, but I won’t stay mad, and I’m not leaving you, ever. Come on.”

Dean feels Cas tug him to their room. He strips off his clothes, then guides him to the bed. Dean drinks the water Cas offers him and doesn’t remember anything after that.

Morning brings him a mixed bag: his head hurts, but Cas is next to him, naked and watching him. “Take those meds,” he says, pointing at the bedside table. He does. “Good. Now, use the bathroom, then meet me back here.”

“Bossy,” he mumbles, but does as he’s told. When Dean slips back into bed, Cas climbs onto him. “Why am I upset, Dean?” he asks.

“You’re upset?”

Cas arches a brow.

Dean thinks back to just a few short hours ago. It’s fuzzy at first, but then...“Oh. ’Cause I was an idiot.”

“Dean.”

Dean sighs. “Because I defended you when you can defend yourself.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I’m upset because you thought that I would prefer someone else over you, and instead of talking to me about it, you put yourself in harm’s way.”

“I know.” Dean feels tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t remember all the details, but he remembers how he felt. “It was stupid. I’m sorry. You know how I get when I’m drunk.”

“I do know, but I’ve never seen you quite like that.”

“Lot more to lose now.” Dean fixes his eyes on Cas’ chest, swallowing hard. 

“So, let’s talk about it. Keep your hands to your sides.” He glides his tongue down Dean’s body, making it shiver deliciously, then wraps his mouth around Dean’s suddenly-hardening cock, sucking it until he’s squirming. He pops off. “Tell me why you thought I would prefer the attentions of someone else.”

_ Ugh. _ He hates it when Cas makes him face his insecurities. “Because I got scared. All the shit from school came up, all that crap that made me feel that I’m not good enough for anyone to be with, especially you.”

“And is it true? All that crap?”

“No. No, it’s just...crap that I used to believe. It’s not true.”

“Good.” Cas goes down on him again, taking him deep into his throat. Dean groans. Cas pops off again. Dean groans again.

“Now, tell me why I only want to be with you.”

_ Shit_. The only thing worse than Cas making him face his insecurities is Cas making him say all the things he loves about him. “You love me.”

“True.” He pulls something out from behind him and _ holy shit, his plug. _“And why do I love you?” He coats Dean’s cock with lube he must’ve grabbed at some point, then hovers his ass over it.

“Oh, fuck…” Dean moans breathlessly. “Um, because I’m honest, and caring, and loyal, and confident, usually, and I try hard to overcome my fears, and my soul is bright, and because you feel a profound bond with me that you’ve never felt with anyone.”

“Good.” He sinks down on Dean in one steady push. Clearly, he prepped himself. “And am I intelligent? Do I think things through?”

“Fuck yes,” Dean squeaks.

“Am I a big boy, one who can make his own decisions, no matter what you believe my decisions should be?”

“Yeah.”

Cas uses his muscular thighs to lift himself and slam down on Dean’s cock, making him cry out. “And do you trust me?”

“God, yes, I trust you, I do, I swear.”

He slams down again. “And do you believe that I would never, ever hurt you?”

“Yes. Of course you wouldn’t.”

Again. Dean moans. “And did I hold your hands in mine a week ago and willingly vow to be committed to you forever, forsaking all others?”

“Yes.”

Cas grinds and rotates on his cock, and he feels like he’s going to explode. “And was it the happiest day of my life?”

Dean meets his eyes, those soft, sincere blues regarding him with such love, a look he’s seen hundreds of times. Cas has never lied to him. “Yes.”

“You’re damn right it was. And so, Dean Winchester-Novak, to what conclusion does all that logically lead us?”

“That you don’t want anyone else. That you only want me.”

“Yes.” Cas takes his cock deeply, then takes his hands and kisses each of his knuckles. Both choke Dean up. “I know some of it was insecurity, but I also know you were acting out of love. Those people had no right to touch me, and you were defending me, and I love you for it. I merely wanted to show you that you don’t ever have to doubt me.”

“I don’t. I won’t.”

“Good.” Cas pours lube into Dean’s hands, then moves them to his cock, tall and weeping. “You were willing to help me out last night, so feel free to help me out now,” he smirks.

Dean snorts, and they laugh as they recall the night while getting each other to their peaks. Cas comes first and Dean follows immediately after, the pulsing of Cas’ ass around him the boost he needed. 

“Talking about serious shit while having sex, then laughing about it while still having sex,” Dean murmurs when they’re through. “You do realize we’re the weirdest couple ever.”

“Are we? That’s nice.”

Dean smiles. “It is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out where Dean and Cas went this chapter!  
[Playa de las Américas](https://www.spain-tenerife.com/en/places/playa-americas.html)
> 
> Translations:  
-Muchas gracias - Thank you (you probably knew that one, ha ha)  
-Estas muy enamorado - You’re so in love.  
-¿Te está molestando, guapo? - Is he bothering you, handsome?  
-No, no, él es mi esposo. Solo estamos hablando. - No, no, he’s my husband. We’re just talking.  
-¿Tienes una problema? - Do you have a problem?  
-Te golpearemos, gilipollas. - We will hit you, asshole.  
-¡Vete a la mierda! ¡Déjalo en paz! - Fuck off! Leave him alone!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to go home. 🙁

After their rough night at the club, they come to an unspoken decision: they’re done in Playa de las Américas. “Dean, what’s your opinion about driving up to Puerto de la Cruz for our last day?”

“Extremely favorable.”

“Awesome.”

Dean giggles. It always amuses him to hear something he says come out of Cas’ mouth.

They make their way north once again, this time to a picturesque harbor city, and instantly Dean’s blood pressure drops. This is more like it. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, going to the ultra-loud, ultra-touristy resort town they just left. “So much better, babe,” Dean drawls. 

“And it’ll be even better soon,” Cas smiles.

They find their hotel, then make their way into town. It’s touristy, too, but with a completely different vibe; it’s sophisticated and much more Canarian in character, and there are pockets of peace all around. 

“I love it here,” Dean tells Cas as they stroll the cobbled streets through La Ranilla, an old fishing area and a hotspot for restaurants of all kinds. They stop at Casa Pache, an adorable restaurant set in an old house on a pretty street, and eat a fantastic lunch—Cas gets the cod with onions, while Dean opts for the rabbit and doesn’t think about cute, furry bun-buns. They finish with mojito cake, strong Canarian coffee, and full bellies.

They make a quick drive to Playa del Castillo to take in the black sand beach, then spend the rest of the afternoon and evening hand-in-hand, exploring the town and its quaint, colorful buildings and taking in the view along the San Telmo promenade. Dean is in awe of it all. It’s incredible to see another way of life, and to be lucky enough to experience it with Cas. He regrets that they’re leaving tomorrow. 

But leaving they are. Cas is sad about it, too, and the next day, he finds himself a little melancholy. 

“What do you want to do today, babe?” Dean asks at breakfast. He steals a piece of Cas’ bacon, because he’s still “avoiding” it (and what a fine job he’s doing, Cas thinks with amusement). Cas pulls Dean’s barraquito—a coffee made with milk, condensed milk, lemon, cinnamon, and Licor 43–to his lips, considering the question.

“I don’t know. There’s so much we could do, and yet I don’t want to get too wrapped up in anything in particular and then have to abandon it because we have to get to the airport. You know how I am.”

“Easily lost in things you love.”

“I prefer extremely focused and devoted.”

“That, too.”

They share a smile.

“I want to do it all, though.”

“I know. But we gotta leave something to do for next time, right?”

Cas scrutinizes his husband. “You’d come back?”

“Sure.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, I know I was a big baby about the flight, and I will be every time, probably. But I love being with you, and I’ve loved our time here, so, yeah, I’d come back.”

Knowing that eases Cas’ melancholy considerably. He caresses Dean’s face, then kisses his temple. “I love you.”

“I love you. So, how do you feel about Segways?”

“You made a segue about Segways. Impressive.”

Dean laughs. “I guess I did.”

They take a Segway tour of the city, seeing some of the same things as yesterday and many more sights besides. Cas has to caution Dean not to lose focus as he takes in all the gorgeous buildings. It’s not too difficult, since Dean is just as focused on the machine they’re using. Probably thinking how he could Google it up somehow. “Stop thinking about work!” Cas chides him when he sees him studying the machine a little too hard. Dean looks at him sheepishly and turns back to the scenery. 

Cas is startled when Dean stops and shrieks, “Cas!”

“What?”

“Look! Tweety birds!”

Indeed, in a tree and on the ground around it, several canaries are gathered. The little birds, yellow-green with brown speckles and streaks, are pecking at the ground. “Lunchtime,” Cas grins. 

“Looks like,” Dean grins in return. They both snap several pictures. “Listen to ‘em.” He takes a video of their high-pitched chatter. Cas can’t help but snap a photo of his husband’s delighted face. 

When they’re done, they take a cue from the canaries and go for lunch, enjoying their last meal of Canarian cod and papas arrugadas con mojo, along with garimbas, small beers that quench their thirst on the sweltering day. After that, it’s off to the airport. 

“I’ll miss this place,” Dean tells him after they check their bags. 

“Me too,” Cas sighs, then smiles. They’ll be back to reality soon, yes. He’s pretty damn happy with his reality, though, and that eases the sting of leaving such a wonderful place. 

They park themselves at a bar and grill while they wait for their flight to board. Cas leaves Dean to change into comfortable clothes and fill their water bottles, and when he returns, he sees Dean nursing a beer and talking with a woman around their age. It’s crowded, so Dean doesn’t notice him return, and he sits quietly behind him and listens to his husband, who looks more relaxed than he expected.

“...So then he throws the drinks in their faces and we ran like hell,” he laughs. The woman laughs brightly with him. 

“What a ruckus. Your husband sounds like a firecracker,” the woman says. Her accent is American.

“He is hot and sparkly,” Dean jokes. Cas rolls his eyes. “That’s not the first time he’s made a scene for me, though. Last year, we went to my high school reunion, and he went on this huge, poetic rant about how much he loved me. It was…well, if I wasn’t already in love with him, I would’ve fallen right then. And we weren’t even dating. We were just fake dating for the reunion ‘cause I’d dealt with a lot of shit in high school, but we’d been friends for years and…” He trails off, and Cas sees the soft smile on the woman’s face.

“What a beautiful story. I can see how much you love him.”

“Same,” Cas says, making his presence known as he kisses Dean near his ear.

Dean startles. “Fuck, Cas.” Realizing he probably heard him, Dean flushes. “This is him,” he says, thumbing behind him.

“I figured,” she grins. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Cas nods.

Their flight is called soon after, and Dean’s anxiety instantly ratchets up. Unlike last time, though, he works hard to use the strategies that Anne taught him. That, combined with Cas’ hand in his and a little alcohol in his system, helps him tolerate the flight to London.

After an overnight in London where they see nothing more than their hotel room, they take a second, much longer flight from there to San Francisco. Dean takes the medication this time, and he’s out for the majority of it. When he comes to, he fakes illness (not too difficult given that he’s still pale from their takeoff hours ago) and convinces a flight attendant to let Cas into the tiny bathroom, where they exchange quick and dirty handjobs that loosen them both up and make the remainder of the flight much more pleasant.

Charlie, their friend and Dean’s co-worker, is there to greet them at the airport. “My bitches!” she calls. 

“Queen!” they reply before diving in for hugs.

“Oh, you guys must be beat!”

Cas smirks at Dean. “Would you say we’re beat?”

“Uh, something like that,” Dean jokes.

Charlie looks between them, scowling, until she gets it. “Ah, Mile High Club. Nice.”

She drives them home, chatting all the way. Cas is exhausted, and Dean isn’t doing a whole lot better, but they keep up with her as much as they can. 

At home, the men collapse face-first into their bed and sleep until the next day. When Cas wakes after noon, he sees that Dean has unpacked and hears him doing laundry. Cas orders pizza and puts away their toiletries, then wanders into the living room to call Mary. 

“Castiel! How was your trip?” she smiles. 

“It was wonderful, Mary. Truly wonderful.”

“Oh, good. I loved—oh, Dean, honey! Hi!”

Cas looks up and smiles as his husband settles next to him. “Hey Ma.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah. It was awesome.”

“Good! I was just going to tell Cas that I enjoyed all the pictures he sent during your trip!”

“Pictures?” Dean turns squinty eyes toward Cas. 

Cas shrugs. “Selfies, mostly. Some pics of you, some of us.”

They spend a few minutes telling her about their trip, then bid her goodbye when the pizza arrives. They sit at the table with their pizza and a two-liter of soda. 

“So,” Dean says with his mouth full, “you were sending my mother selfies? On our honeymoon?”

“Yes.”

“Lemme see.”

Cas hands his phone over, and Dean scrolls through the text messages and pictures. He smiles softly as his eyes scan the screen. 

“Man, you guys were chatting all week.”

“We did. Your mom was worried about us being in a foreign country.”

“Why didn’t she text me, then? I think we texted once or twice, at most.”

“You know why. Because she loves me best.”

Cas snickers as Dean pinches his hip, then ruffles his silver-tipped hair. They polish off their pizza, reminiscing about their trip.

“Ugh, I suppose,” Dean groans, standing up. “Time to get some groceries.”

“Mmm.” Cas stands and stretches. “Back to real life.”

“I miss the Tweety Birds,” Dean pouts.

“I know. Hey, how about we look up a few Canarian recipes and buy the ingredients to recreate them?”

His husband brightens. “Yeah?”

“Sure. And when we get back home, we’ll order miel de palma online for our pancakes.”

“And maybe we can get a few photos printed while we’re out?”

“Sounds great.”

Dean tugs him close and presses a kiss onto his lips. “You’re awesome. Thanks, tweetheart.”

Cas’ affectionate gaze turns sour as a teasing grin stretches across Dean’s face. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“I thought it was pretty good.”

“Stick to your considerable skill set, of which puns are not a part.”

“I have no egrets.”

“I’m starting to.”

“Aww, Sunshine, am I ruffling your feathers?”

“Dean.”

“Don’t beak mad, babe.”

Cas shakes his head and walks toward the door, where his keys for Baby are. “Wow.”

“Ooh, poetry!”

Cas can’t help the fond smile that crosses his face at their inside joke. “I prefer your poetry to your puns.”

“Okay, okay. Owl stop.” 

“I’m going to the car now.”

Dean chases after him, laughing. “Can we stop for a tweet on the way back?”

“No.”

“Can we at least flock when we get home? You’re really tern-ing me on.”

“I’m divorcing you.”

“No you’re not! You love me, tweetheart.”

Cas spins around and pins Dean to the car. “Damn right I do, Rigel. My tweetheart.”

Dean’s shout of glee is swallowed by Cas. They laugh against each other’s mouths, then separate and climb into Baby to head to the grocery store. 

They’re not on their honeymoon anymore, but life is still twee—ahem, sweet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s it for their honeymoon! Many thanks again to GiGis_Willow for this idea. It was wonderful to visit these two again. 🥰 
> 
> Want to check out where Dean and Cas spent their time?  
[Puerto de la Cruz](https://www.spain-tenerife.com/en/places/puerto-de-la-cruz.html)  
[Casa Pache](https://www.facebook.com/casapache.rest/)
> 
> Think that barraquito sounds tempting? Try it! [Barraquito](https://artandkitchen.wordpress.com/2017/03/20/barraquito-3-ways-wonder-coffee-from-tenerife/)  
Or maybe these Canarian staples? [Papas Arrugadas con Mojo](https://www.thespruceeats.com/wrinkled-potatoes-recipe-papas-arrugadas-3083528)
> 
> 💙 Thank you for reading! If you enjoy this stuff I write, feel free to subscribe. I’m also on Twitter and Tumblr; I’m friendly and totally boring on both. 😜 
> 
> Also, be on the lookout for my next fic, a little love letter to all of you from me for my one million word mark on AO3! Until then...😘


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